


Little Siblings Don't Make Good Wingmen

by legowolas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legowolas/pseuds/legowolas
Summary: Sansa wants to date Myrcella, but makes the mistake of asking Bran to help. Everyone else just tags along after that.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Bran Stark & Sansa Stark, Myrcella Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Rickon Stark & Sansa Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Little Siblings Don't Make Good Wingmen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hatsoff_forgandalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsoff_forgandalf/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS CLARINDA!!!!!! I hope you like your present :D 
> 
> I feel like the beginning is a bit ehh (I'm not too good at writing set-ups adjsja), and the characters might be a little ooc, so I apologise for that but I think you'll still enjoy it!! 
> 
> Anyway, enough waiting, here's the fic lmao

The Baratheons had been visiting up North for a week now, and for a week, Sansa had been pining. The last time they had visited was when she was eleven, and she remembered having the biggest crush on Robert’s oldest child, Joffrey, twelve at the time. She cried when he left. 

Seven years later, Sansa was a lesbian, and Myrcella, Joffrey’s sister, had gotten _hot_. 

Sansa tried to flirt. Oh, how she tried, but clearly what hadn’t changed in those seven years was her level of skill in the art of seduction. She would hold the door open for Myrcella, try to smile extra when she talked to her, and pepper in the fact that she was beautiful at every opportunity, but all of that was no less than what she did whenever she was just trying to be polite. 

Sansa’s parents were having Myrcella’s family over tomorrow, and Sansa hoped to make at least a little bit of progress then, but she would need help, which was how she found herself knocking on Bran’s door. 

He and Myrcella had been fast friends last time she was here, and Sansa had always been close with him. She figured that out of all her siblings, he would be the best one to ask. 

“Come in!” his cheerful voice called from within the room. He was laying on his bed, looking at something on his phone, and he smiled when he saw Sansa enter. 

“Sansa! What is it?” 

“Hey Bran, I, er, I need your help. With a girl.” She stared at the floor, and her last line came out in a half-whisper. 

Bran’s grin widened when he heard that, and he put his phone down on the bedside table so that he could pay full attention to his sister. “What kind of help?”

“Stop it! The flirting kind, obviously.” 

“Fair enough. Does this girl have a name?” 

“Myrcella. It's Myrcella. I like— I like Myrcella.”

“Oh.” 

There were a few moments of silence, before Bran continued with, “That makes sense.”

“So, can you help me?” 

“Don’t you worry dear sister, that girl will soon be yours.” 

Sansa blushed, but mustered her dignity to nod. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

Bran winked and blew a kiss. Sansa rolled her eyes, before retreating back to her own room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomorrow had come, Myrcella was here, Sansa was panicking. 

She’d worn her favourite dress, it was blue to match her eyes, and her hair was in a long fishtail braid, falling over her shoulder and down her chest. Myrcella had said that she looked pretty when they greeted each other, which made Sansa blush. She just hoped that the other girl didn't notice.

Now, her and Bran were whispering to each other as she pushed his wheelchair around so he could greet everyone. 

“I was looking at pick-up lines on Google, and— hi, Aunt Cersei!”

“Hi, Brett.” 

“Wow. She doesn’t even know my name. Anyway, I was looking at pick-up lines on Google, and— Myrcella likes cats, by the way— I think you should go up to her and say: ‘Are you a cat? Because I’m _feline_ a connection between us’.”

“ _Bran_! I am _not_ going to say that!

“Alright then, what’s _your_ plan?”

When Sansa was silent, he continued,

“That’s right, you don’t have one. Which is why mine is automatically better.” 

“What’s automatically better?” their sister Arya piped up, appearing as if from nowhere.

“Nothing,” Sansa blurted, at the exact same time as Bran betrayed, 

“My plan to get Sansa a girlfriend.” 

“THERE’S A PLAN TO GET SANSA A GIRLFRIEND??? WHY WASN’T I TOLD??!!”

“Shh, _shh_! Because it was supposed to be _discreet_ ,” she hissed, glaring at Bran, who simply shrugged.

“Hey, no one told me.” 

“Well, either way, I can help. Are we looking at anyone in particular?”

“Myrcella,” Bran responded immediately, earning another glare from Sansa. 

“Oh, I was actually talking to Myrcella earlier! She likes a lot of things that you do, like fashion and stuff, but she’s a lot less boring. I approve.”

“Oh, thank you so much for your _seal of approval_ ,” Sansa snapped.

“No problem at all. Now, what’s our game plan?” 

“Well, I wanted her to go up to Myrcella and say, ‘Are you a cat? Because I’m feline a connection between us’, but she doesn’t want to,” Bran explained.

Arya seemed to think that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard, because she laughed for about thirty seconds straight. 

“’I'm— I’m _FELINE_ a connection between us????” she repeated, between peals of laughter. “Bran, that’s awful!”

“Well, do _you_ have a better idea?!” 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She turned to Sansa. “Walk in front of Myrcella and pretend to trip. She’s so polite, she’ll _have_ to help you up. Everything else will happen on its own from there.”

Sansa studied her sister for a moment. “You just want to see me fall on the floor.”

“Maybe,” Arya snickered. 

“Who’s falling on the floor?” asked Rickon, who was suddenly standing behind Sansa. 

“Bran, don’t!”

“Sansa is, we’re trying to get her a girlfriend.”

“Ideally Myrcella,” Arya added. 

“Alright, I’ll just go tell her!”

“Rickon, _no_!” Sansa scolded, but her baby brother was faster. One moment he was standing right beside her, and the next, he was on the other end of the room talking to Myrcella. 

She only caught a little bit of Rickon’s dialogue by the time she reached them, cursing herself all the while for ever mentioning anything to Bran. 

“She likes lemonade and pretty hair clips and friendly dogs and— mmph!” 

Sansa had grabbed him from behind, clamping a hand over his mouth. “Hey Myrcella, I don’t know what Rickon’s been saying, but please ignore all of it.”

She bent down to talk to her brother, chiding quietly, “go back to Bran and Arya.” Rickon just licked the palm of her hand in response, causing her to release him with a yelp, but he ran off after that, leaving only Sansa, Myrcella, and the tension between them.

“So, uh, what did he tell you?” 

There was a pause, before Myrcella divulged, “He said you wanted me to be your girlfriend.” 

“Oh no,” was all that Sansa managed.

“Mhm. Sansa, I’m gonna be honest—” 

“No, no, _no_ , don’t be honest, _please_. Just let me live my life happy, and oblivious to the fact that you don’t like me like that.” 

“Wait, let me finish. I know we haven’t talked much, but from what I’ve heard, everyone loves you, and you seem kind, caring, and intelligent. And, of course, you’re gorgeous. I would love to be your girlfriend, but...” 

“But?” Sansa’s voice came out in a squeak.

“Like I said earlier, we haven’t talked much. I’d like to. I have no doubt that you’ll turn out to be everything that your family says you are, but I still want to talk a bit. Can we go out for dinner sometime?” 

Sansa blinked, her brain still processing the words. Then she smiled. Then she laughed. Then she remembered that the other girl was still waiting for an answer, and she spoke.

“I, uh, yeah— yeah. I’d like that.” 

“Would Friday evening work?” Myrcella asked, with a smile.

“Friday evening would be lovely.” 

“Perfect. It’s a date!” 

A date. A _date_. _A date_. A date with _Myrcella_. Sansa felt as though she was walking on clouds, and there was nothing to do except laugh. Myrcella laughed too, and they stayed like that for at least a minute, before the golden-haired girl said,

“I’ve been crushing on you too, you know.”

“You— you have?? _Me_???”

Myrcella nodded. “I never said anything because I didn't think I’d actually have a chance.”

“ _You_? No way! _I’m_ the one who wouldn't have a chance!”

“Don’t undervalue yourself, Sansa,” she said, taking Sansa’s hands in her own. “You’re wonderful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the evening passed in a haze. By the end, Sansa barely knew who she talked to or what she said, the only thing on her mind was Myrcella.

“I’ll see you on Friday, I suppose,” Sansa murmured, when it was time for the Baratheons to say their farewells. 

“Yes, see you on Friday,” the other girl replied, smiling. She hesitated a moment, and then lifted Sansa’s hands to her lips to give them a kiss.

“Hhh,” Sansa stuttered, not able to think of words.

“Goodbye,” Myrcella murmured, taking one last look at Sansa before turning to leave. 

“Good— goodbye.” 

When Sansa turned around to go inside, she found herself faced with all her younger siblings, wicked grins on their faces. 

“Tell us _everything_ that happened,” Arya demanded. 

Sansa took a deep sigh.


End file.
